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RPlog:From Diplomat to Spychief
Title: - From Diplomat to Spychief – The office itself is fairly modest, belong to the local Bureau liaison officer. However the view from the large side viewpoint is spectaculor, opening directly out into space it looks down onto the green form of O'Paal - spinning silently against the background of dark space, and pinpoint stars. Joir is sitting at the desk, however his head is inclined towards the window, eyes deep in thought - as if the beauty of the scene is nothing compared to the depth of his thinking. Echoing footsteps mark the arrival of the scarred one, Morganna. The expression on her face is not a particularly happy one, but then again... when is it? When the people probing your mind wince at your answers, that's usually not a good sign.. and being summoned so quickly after said tests coul mean the end, or something wonderful. It's quite obvious what morganna is thinking. "My Lord." she says with a hint of confidence, "You wanted to see me?" Joir turns his head slowly from the window, examining Morganna with his cold, unfeeling eyes for a moment. Then, without another sign he suddenly flicks his eyes from her face downward towards the data terminal sitting on his desk, tapping a few keys he brings up a file before bringing his eyes back towards the scarred form before him. Indicating the seat in front of the desk he says a single word "Sit" - voice, cold and unreadable. The chill of Joir's voice cuts through Morganna's fleash and to her bones. However, she tries her very best to maintain her composure and appear strong.. even though she's almost certain that it's the end of the world as she knows it. Without a word, the scarred woman takes a seat in one otf the hard leather chairs, folding her hands in front of her. The glowing eye reflects upon the black marble table. Joir looks back down at the file, and uses the keyboard to scroll the pages down quickly, reaching the one he wants he stops and begins to read "Dangerous, violent, at times uncontrolled, emotional turmoil resulting from her background and the accident...." he trails off before looking straight at Morganna, eyes boring deep into her soul "Would you call that a good deameanour for a diplomat, a reprasentative of the Empire?" - the question is quiet, but the tone is deadly serious. Morganna just wants to crawl down in the chair, to sink away and not be seen. Her submissive side screams for her to give in, to admit that she's not worth a thing.. but something in her manages to keep her somewhat composed. Her mismatched gaze burnes with anger, fear and determination, but yet even she winces at the report. It was harsher than she realised. "No, my lord." comes a voice that is almost ashemed and quite hesitant. Quite a contrast to the cold front that the woman is portraying, "I tried to curb that side of me.. it.. didn't work to well.." Joir continues his hard stare, is cold grey eyes betraying a slight glimmer of hope - her ability to defy even when facing such circumstances may be useful - or fatal. Without changing the expressionless mask on his face he reaches down onto the desk and picks up an official noticepad, emblazzoned with the Diploserve crest, speaking in a strange, official tone her addresses Morganna "As of today Ms Tazecks you have been relieved of all diplomatic duties, your ambassadorial position will be assigned from the diploserve pool" - there it is, quick and brutal - how will she handle it? That left eye flares brightly as Morganna hears the news. She clenches her fist and tenses, trying to control the impulsive rage that wants to take over her. No. She coaxes herself. No, he's right.. I screwed up. The fist unclenches and lowers to her belt, unclipping the diplomatic passes and placing them on the table with a surprisingly unforceful gesture, "I take it I'm a civillian now, My Lord?" something in her organic eye flickers, dread, failure, but... even a hint of optimism. Joir sits there, unmoving, emotionless - the perfect image of chilled Imperial efficiency, his face gives nothing away - no sign that Morganna can use to decide on her fate. Reaching again onto the desk he produces another holopad, one bearing the letters CIO. Looking down at it for a moment, Joir leans forward to hand it to Morganna - when he speaks his voice is flavoured by a slight taste of humor "No Ms Tazecks, the Empire will not let you escape your duties that easily" The datapad is title ‘Bureau of Operations, Department of Intelligence’, listed is a transfer file, promoting one Ambassador Morganna Tazecks to provisional head of the intelligence department, the position of Chief Intelligence Officer. Morganna's demeanour changes from nervous to baffled with the bat of an eyelid. Her organic eye widens upon reading the contents of the datapad. The sound of jaw dropping can be heard from miles away. Yes.. Yes.. this s exactly what she wanted... finally away from that blasted Diplogarbage and into a position where she can use her negative emotions for good. "I don't know what tosay.." is all she manages to say. The smile is grim, yet it displays some degree of chilled humor - matched entirely by his voice "Say? - talk was your past, action is your future - remember 'Officer' Tazecks, the Empire has placed a great responsibility in your lap, use your talents well" Joir pauses for a second, before continuing "For the good of the Emperor" - voice quiet, and serious once again. Morganna cradles the datapad in one of her scarred hands and she re reads the words on the screen, as though still not completely believing them. "Yes. My talents will be of far greater use now.. I've wanted a position like this.." she clamps her mouth shut, talk is of the past. "I will not fail. I will not fail the emperor.. Thank you, my lord.." A part of him is pleased that Morganna has found renewed hope with this new appointment, and he has no wish to completely crush her spirit but ingrained Imperial norm's, mantra's taught in training and repeated throughout a long military career force him to chill his reply, to remind her of her place "Want has no part in your life, you serve the Empire, you serve the New Order, you serve the Emperor - you serve to remove the chaos from the Galaxy, the responsibility of this task is enormous, it is not because you 'want' it, but because you are the one to 'do' it" The chilled words Snap Morganna back into her guarded and cool self. She nods, yet still grasps the datapad. "I understand, My lord.." there is some respect, but also a slight undertone of that resistance that gets her into trouble sometime. She will learn.. if it kills her. "I will need yto be put up to speed on our operatives and the like." she adds, "So that we can remove chaos... from the galaxy." a chuckle escapes Morganna's lips at this, and she struggles to hold it back unsucsessfully. The chaotic oppressing chaos? This should be fun. Fire fighting fire, sometimes the most lethal weapon is one who knows the enemy intimately - Joir hopes that this holds true in Morganna's case, she can be headstrong, unpredictable and dangerous - so completely different from the structured formality of Imperial officers that the 'galaxy' may never know what has hit them until it is too late. His voice is cold, with a slight trace of cutting sarcasm "Im glad you find such a momentous task 'ammusing' - Vice Director Pantek, your predecessor should bring you up to speed" Morganna purses her lips and suppresses any further emotional outbursts. She;s still suffering from some slight unpredictability from her emptional trauma. "Yes. I'll see that I speak with him as soon as possible." the woman's voice is cold, and deadly... something in her gaze suggests that she wants to succeed, that she wants to see some blood spilled. yes. Morganna's ruthlessness could be an advantage or a flaw, ut there is something about her that suggests that she knows where her loyalties lie and that her agressions will be focused appropriately. "Will that be all, my lord?" The intense eye contact remains for a few more moments, chilling grey eyes trying to bore physcially through Morganna's skull and glance down onto her soul. In answer to her question he nods curtly "Yes Officer Tazecks" - adding as an afterthought "Welcome to the _real_ Bureau" - the tone final, obviously an ending comment. Morganna's soul is usually not a place that most people would want to go. The glimpse Joir gets of it is dark, and twisted. The bloodlust is indeed there, and it is kept in check by a glimmer of common sense that she has picked up along the way. The scarred officer rises from the chair amnd inclines her head respectfully towards Joir. "Good evening, My lord." after holding his gaze for several moments, she turns to leave the room. Perhaps she shall go down to the training facilities... Joir watches Morganna for a moment more, before flicking his eyes back down to the data screen on his desk - one item dealt with, but work continues - although he has a feeling that it may become far more interesting now that he has deliberately injected an unknown element into the system - a risk, but a calculated one. From Diplomat to Spychief